ANN ARBOR, Mich. — Sarah McMaster’s disabilities range the entire catalog: ones she was born with, genetic ones, those acquired through trauma, mental health issues, chronic diseases and something her doctors refer to as “just stress.” As a result, she doesn’t know which one to identify with.
“It’s a real mind trip. I mean, I know we’re not supposed to define ourselves by our disabilities. But they are still part of our daily lives, and it would be nice to know which one I identify with.”
McMaster started picking one at random and attending support groups for that particular disability. When it would be her turn to speak, she would inadvertently share something irrelevant to that disability. Others in the group would shake their heads and ask if she was in the wrong room. While organizers were sympathetic, they all asked her to stop attending their meetings because they didn’t identify with her.
This left McMaster feeling even more adrift. She tried asking her doctors, but they would all state that what she’s experiencing is not their specialization. She tried getting answers from her caregivers, but they would just ask what she wanted for dinner. Even ChatGPT admitted it had no idea, despite her prompting it to make something up to make her feel better.
“Mostly I just want someone else to tell me: Do I use a wheelchair because of my SCI or my SMA?” she said, referring to her spinal cord injury and her spinal muscular atrophy. “Is my depression primary or secondary? Which autoimmune disease has taken all my spoons? If I knew, I would be able to answer people when they ask, ‘What’s wrong with you?’”
McMaster now tries to identify with all of them — though it’s a never-ending endeavor. Plus, bureaucrats get extra snarky when you tick every single box on their forms.